Chapter 163

Clifford remained silent.

Eventually, Yesenia exhausted herself, but the drug she'd taken still coursed through her system. She writhed in the back seat, letting out soft, breathy moans.

Any other man would have been driven to his limit, but Clifford's face was like stone, his composure absolute.

He drove to a hospital, parked, and opened the back door to lift her out.

"Clifford... I feel so hot," she whispered, her hands finding their way around his neck. She pressed her body against his, her lips seeking his like a heat-seeking missile.

"Do you love me...?"

"It's okay, you don't have to take responsibility... I just want you..."

"I don't want anything else, just you..."

A muscle twitched in Clifford's jaw. He abruptly set her back down in the car, then ripped off his own tie and used it to bind her wrists together.

Yesenia froze, momentarily stunned. In that instant, he lifted her again and strode toward the hospital entrance.

Infuriated, she struggled against the makeshift bonds, but they held fast. Twisting her head, she sank her teeth into his arm.

Clifford's face darkened, but he gritted his teeth against the pain. "Yesenia, if you don't stop this right now, I swear I'll drop you right here!"

She kept her teeth clamped on his arm but blinked, her grip loosening slightly.

...

The next day.

Latisha's eyes fluttered open to a world of hazy consciousness. She stared at the stark white ceiling, unable to distinguish dream from reality. Slowly, the events of the past few days flooded back into her mind, and her expression soured.

"Mrs. Lambert, you're awake!” a cheerful voice exclaimed.

Latisha turned her head to see the doctor.

He quickly held out a thermometer. “Here, let's check your temperature and see if the fever has broken."

Latisha stared at it for a moment, then tried to lift her arm, but her body was completely devoid of strength. She couldn't even raise her hand.

The doctor hesitated, then moved the thermometer to her mouth. "Let's do it orally,

then. It might not be as accurate, but it's better than nothing."

He gently guided it between her lips.

Latisha gave a weak, wry smile and parted her lips to accept it.

ed him bustle around, a

She watched

wave of disappointment washing over her. For a moment, she had thought she might actually die. But it seemed she was still bound to the torment of this world. She closed her eyes, her mind too weary to think anymore.

A few minutes later, the doctor removed the thermometer and held it up to the light.

He let out a sigh of relief.

"Excellent, the fever's gone. But we used strong medication, so we'll need to keep you under observation for a white," he said, mostly to

himself before shaking

down the

thermometer and returning to his

bag.

He sat down beside her, his expression hesitant. "Mrs. Lambert, forgive me for

asking, but... have you recently had a miscarriage?"

Latisha's eyes snapped open, and she turned to look at him.

"I don't mean anything by it," he said quickly. "It's just... your body is extremely weak right now. You need to focus on recovery."

"Otherwise..." He trailed off, unwilling to make a definitive prognosis. "...it could lead to serious complications down the road."

Latisha just stared at him, silent. The doctor looked young, maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with a full head of hair and black-rimmed glasses. Combined with his timid demeanor, he had an almost gooly air about him.

After a moment, Latisha managed to free a hand from under the covers and signed: *Do you know sign language?*

The doctor stared at her moving fingers, then shook his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry... I don't understand."

Latisha let her hand fall back to her side. The doctor showed no surprise or pity, just simple acceptance, which was so unusual it almost made her uncomfortable.